


Science!

by Psistriker



Series: Chronoverse [4]
Category: Avengers, MCU, Marvel Comics, X-Men
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken silliness, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 19:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10837965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psistriker/pseuds/Psistriker
Summary: Clint Barton is the ultimate marksman, but how good is he drunk?  Only one way to find out.  It's Science!





	Science!

**Author's Note:**

> More Tumblr ask box pandering. The lovely venitinmentem suggested the idea and I just ran with it.

“Are you sure about this, Chronos?”

Chronos rolled her eyes. “Loosen up, Wannabe,” she replied. “Scientific endeavors sometimes take sacrifice. Besides, this was your idea.”

“Getting Clint drunk and taking him to the shooting range is not a ‘scientific endeavor’,” Kate Bishop pointed out. “And how is this fiasco my idea?”

“Last week when he was throwing darts blindfolded. You wondered if there were any conditions where he can’t make the shot. I’ve been testing your hypothesis, drunk was the next one on the list,” Chronos explained. “Although technically WE didn’t get him drunk, Thor did. I’m just taking advantage of the situation.”

Kate looked over to where Clint was leaning against the wall, stroking his bow and humming to himself. “Yeah, this is gonna end well,” she sighed.

Chronos finished fiddling with the controls. “Yo, Birdman, you ready?”

Clint flashed her a drunken thumbs up. Or at least he tried to. “Don’t worry, Timex,” he slurred. “I can do dis in m’sleep.”

“Yeah, that’s next week,” Chronos replied.

“Should we be standing behind something?” Kate asked, concerned.

“Katey-Kate-Kate-Kate-Kate-Kate,” Clint hiccuped. “Relax, Hawkeye. I got *hic* I gotted dis. I da bested, ‘member?”

“No, I’m the bested, you’re the wasted,” Kate shot back.

“Listen here, girlie.” Clint started towards them but tripped over his feet, nearly face planting in front of them. “Aw floor, no.”

Chronos helped him up, turning him towards the targets. “Easy there, Birdman,” she said. “Wannabe’s not worth it.”

“She not wannabe, she Hawkeye,” Clint admonished. “She very good. You very good too. Hawkeye and Timex, my good, good friends.”

“Oh God,” the girls groaned in unison.

“If he pukes, you’re cleaning it up,” Kate declared.

“Screw that,” Chronos replied. “If he pukes, Thor can clean it up. He’s the one that brought the Asgardian mead.”

“Mead!” Clint exclaimed. “Want mead, is nummy.”

“Do this for me, Birdman, and you can go back to the party and have all the mead you want,” Chronos said.

“Yay!” Clint cheered. “You da the bestest little sister ever!”

Chronos patted his shoulder before heading back over to the control panel.

“You’re not really going to let him drink more of that, are you?” Kate hissed.

“Oh hell no,” Chronos answered. “I’m crazy, not stupid.”

“So you just lied to him.”

Chronos shook her head. “I said he could go back, I never said he’d make it,” she said. “I promised Natasha if he didn’t pass out after this I’d knock him out.”

“Can I help with that?”

“You knock him out, I catch him?”

“Deal.”

“Works for me.” Chronos flipped a few more switches on the control panel. “All right, Birdman, it’s all yours!” Then she hit the start button.

The change was instant. Clint raised his bow, all traces of his drunken state gone. He pulled an arrow out of his quiver and fired, hitting a perfect bullseye.

Stark had actually designed this particular range specifically for the archer, using Clint’s carnie past as inspiration. It was modeled after a carnival shooting gallery, complete with moving targets and flashing lights. Only these targets were life-size, three-dimensional, and occasionally shot back.

Chronos played with the difficulty, slowly increasing it as they went along. No matter what she threw at him, Clint made every shot.

Once he ran out of arrows, she shut it down.

“Aww, they wented away,” Clint pouted, lowering his bow. “Why for did they wented away?”

“Because you ran out of arrows,” Chronos explained.

Clint’s pout deepened. “But I like arrows.”

Kate shook her head. “He’s still completely trashed!”

“Yeah, and apparently Asgardian mead causes a mental regression in normal humans that makes them act like a four year old,” Chronos said. “I may have to test this further, but I need a bigger sample size. I wonder what it would do to Big Green.”

“No!” Kate snapped. “No more testing, especially with mead.”

“You are seriously no fun,” Chronos said.

Meanwhile, Clint was wandering around, calling “here, arrow, arrow, arrow,” at the top of his lungs.

Chronos shared a look with the younger girl. “Hey, Birdman. We can get you some more arrows.”

“Right,” Kate agreed. “We know where there are lots and lots of arrows.”

“Yay!” Clint came over and wrapped his arms around them. “My girls, my friends,” he sighed. “I love my girls.”

“If this shows up on Youtube, you’re a dead woman,” Kate growled.

“Please, give me a little credit,” Chronos replied. “This is going straight into the blackmail file.”

Clint added his own two cents by snoring.

“Oh gross, he’s drooling!” Kate grimaced.

“Wuss.” Chronos grabbed him and threw him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Since he was taller than her, she ended up levitating so his feet wouldn’t drag along the ground. “Good thing this coat’s waterproof. Get the door, will ya?”

Kate held the door for them as Chronos floated out. She shut it behind them before following the mutant down the hall. “So tell me about this blackmail file.” 

“All in good time, Birdgirl. All in good time.”


End file.
